


On Melancholy Hill

by Jjazzandothersuchnonsense



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Mild Fluff, nonbinary!Courfeyrac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jjazzandothersuchnonsense/pseuds/Jjazzandothersuchnonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Combeferre and Coufeyrac friendship/pre-slash fic- something funny and cute!" </p><p>Combeffere struggles with introversion, Chicago rain and transportation systems, and Courfeyrac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Melancholy Hill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Even With My Last Breath](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Even+With+My+Last+Breath).



> This is for Even With My Last Breath (http://evenwithmylastbreath.tumblr.com/) Happy Halloween!!! :D 
> 
> ETA: (there were a million typos so I fixed them :)

The rain fogged up his glasses like no tomorrow. Rivets chased each other down, or clung to the edges. His eyelashes brushed against the inside of the glass, and because his hair dangled into his eyes, and because it was pouring, the whole inside got wet as well. His hair, pempf, it absorbed water almost as well as Feuilly's, and it had been tested just how much water Feuilly's hair could hold. His shoes squished, and anyway, they'd been falling apart since August. His legs hurt, and he and Courfeyrac still had an hour and a half walk left. Because of reasons only Marius and Grantaire understood (and how they'd hit off was beyond anyway) this meeting had to be on the other side of Chicago. And this was the week the L had to shut down. And so they had to trek, two hours, in the rain, in Chicago, at night, in the rain, at the end of October. Combeffere only really wanted to be alone in his bed, able to see, fully comfortable and alone alone alone. 

He mentally slapped himself. They were working on it. Patience. It will come. You need to listen to what Courf's saying now. 

When Combeffere'd tuned Courfeyrac out, he'd been pretty sure they'd been talking about peanuts being stuck in carmel,being stuck in their teeth, which he'd figured would be safe to ignore. Now they'd steered their conversation back to the Halloween Things They Were Very Excited About. 

Formost on this list, clearly, were the boxes for their and Musichetta's 'kids'. Many of the same points that'd been brought up when the idea first surfaced a month ago were mentioned again here. An age old (and mildly comforting) shpeel for Combeffere at this point (as were the arguments for the Christmas party, the Thanksgiving boxes, and spring book drives, all of which appeared here as well) and it only required his same, tried and true responses. Engaging and crucial, yes, but not hard to listen too. Courfeyrac and Enjolras often shared the same one track minded focus, he thought. Both could talk about a topic endlessly, to anyone who would listen, till their unwalked trail in time because a well traversed highway. Enjolras sometimes lacked the ability to think of more then one thing at a time when he got like this, but Courfeyrac's mind could go off on a thousand different tangents a thousand different times. Sometimes they made little sense. Combeffere huffed. This well explained their capacity for endless conversation. Something always needed explaining, and then would likely be explained a couple more times for emphasis. 

He shook himself out of his mind again, back to the present. 

They'd shifted to the Halloween party Joly and Bossuet (and Grantaire) were hosting at Musichetta's house, and their firm conviction that it was their turn to do the 'Dress as Each Other' rout. Enjolras and Feuilly'd done it last year, Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta'd done it the year before that, and Cosette and Eponine every year before. Clearly, it was well and above their turn. 

“Bahorel will practically be Jehan,” Combeffere pointed out. 

“Pfft. He's calling it Lenore, since Jehan is Poe.”

“Poe! They hated Poe last year.”

“They really want to see Bahorel as Lenore, so it's a sacrifice they'll make.”

“You're sure.”

“Positive. They may well have an essay prepared on why we all need to let go of Poe and branch out beyond commonplace ideals of literature, but there will be a Poe present. I would bet on it.” 

“And you know I will refuse to bet with you.”

“Which is why I said 'I would.”” Courfeyrac laughed. 

They walked for a while, and Courfeyrac quieted, pursed their lips. Combeffere tiped his head, looked at them from the corner of his eye. 

“I worry about Feuilly sometimes.” 

(It never took long to get them to talk.)

“As we all do sometimes, but he's competent, and doesn't often want our overt worry.”

“Oh no, I'm not saying that! And it isn't so much that I worry he'll forget to take care of him self or hurt himself or what other have you that we get from Enjolras. Its more of... I worry he exists at a zero state, do you know? No negative or positive, just sort of... Plateaued. I worry not enough Really Good Things happen.” 

“What do you propose we do dear?”

“Dear?”

“No?”

“No, I like it. I think. What I want to do is lock him and Enjolras and us in I don't know, a library, full of … candy and pumpkin pie and coffee and things they like and let them have at for a day or so and we can watch and be happy.” 

“.... I... am not entirely sure that's plausible...”

“Oh no I realize. But you asked.” They grinned at him. 

Combeffere smiled in response, and they laughed, a little triumphantly. 

The rain soaked Courfeyrac's hair right through, and the curls pressed against their forehead and the nape of their neck. Combeffere rather... kept watching... as the rain trickled down their face. A drop of water (and hopefully not snot) dangled at the edge of their nose. He watched as their thin hand whipped it off, pushed their hair off their face, twitched and shook out the water. 

Combeffere yanked his focus forward. Pull yourself together silly boy. 

Courfeyrac stayed quite again for a while, more comfortably this time. They passed through most of the really big parts of the city, and neared the (relatively) quieter parts of the West Loop, and home. The rain, while not the storm it had been, still hounded down on them. Combeffere's feet and legs passed sore and now just felt numb. Toes especially. He'd slipped out of his 'people' zone when Courfeyrac'd stopped talking, and the still weariness and irritation started settling down on him again. The more he focused on Not What Courfeyrac Was Saying, the more disgruntled, freezing, and uncomfortable he become. He could practically feel the skin melting off of his face, his brain turning to mush and seeping through the cracks of his skull, could almost feel his soul drifting away. Perhaps he'd listened to Jehan a little more carefully then was good for him. 

He pulled himself forward a fourth time to Courfeyrac tugging insistently on his arm. 

“Combeffere look!”

Courfeyrac dragged him (still recovering from his slow, weary sleep) through the narrow gap between buildings toward a soggy cardboard box that held the kittens, probably about five weeks old. Little. And very, very wet. And black. (His mind'd forgotten all coherent thought, and any idea of gaining it back)

Two black kittens left in the Chicago rain right around Halloween. Combeffere wanted to cry. 

“Combeffere. It's a box of soggy kittens.” 

“Yes, it is.” He crouched down next to them. One peeked its head at and looked at him, and the other two tripped over each other trying to get out of its way. 

“Combeffere nobody wants black cats during Halloween. Or ever really. But especially Halloween.” 

The kittens got bored of them and curled back in the nest they'd been in before. Combeffere looked up at Courfeyrac. 

“Can we keep them please?” he begged.

They laughed, and the kittens started. 

“Thank goodness! I thought you were going to say our landlord doesn't allow animals at the house, not that we should take them home!”

“He does not. We are taking them anyway.”

They laughed again. “I'll take two and we can trade off. We're almost home, we won't get ill if we put them in our coats.”

Combeffere grinned up at them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My tumblr is (http://jjazzandothersuchnonsense.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come say hi or smth. Aaannddd I have lived in Chicago, and while I didn't have to walk home two hours in the rain because of the L shutting down, there was a large group of my friends that did :) They didn't find kittens though.


End file.
